


Listen to Me

by TakingFlight48



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And oh does he hear her, Corners him after a big victory, Demands he hears her, Draco heard only half the tale, Draco playing strong, Dumbledore's Armada Make it Quidditch Flash Fest 2020, F/M, Fighting for her man, He doesn't believe her, He's avoided her, Hermione wants all of him, It for real happens, Locker Room Sex, She's through with his childish avoidance, Short but muy caliente, Smut, Weakened by a single touch of her skin, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27829678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakingFlight48/pseuds/TakingFlight48
Summary: He luxuriated as each swipe of his tongue and nip of his lips she relaxed, melting back into him, her anger, his anger, her pleas and unspoken mutual apologies rushing down the drain with the heated water peppering them.Or the one where Hermione is over giving Draco space and demands his attention.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 9
Kudos: 139
Collections: Make it... Quidditch!





	Listen to Me

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [quiddich_flashfic2](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/quiddich_flashfic2) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> **Lockerroom**  
> 
> 
> Accolades will be updated after reveals - but thanks to hslades for the magnificent reason to inject more Quidditch into the fandom. Locker room smut is quidditch, right? 

His entire body froze, taking in the way the air in the locker room shifted from thick with moisture to thick with tension. He was unsurprised when the door clicked shut once again, his skin pebbling in direct contrast with how very little he wanted to see her right now. 

“Draco,” she spoke, crisp and clear and unlike the tone he would expect from a woman coming to apologise to him. His anger simmered closer to the surface, the same fury he had felt lance through him when he saw her in the stands, wearing his old jersey as if he hadn’t spent the last three weeks trying to forget how she looked with that and nothing else on. How dare she —

“Draco Lucius, this is ridiculous, and you know it. Please look at me at least.” But he wouldn’t, couldn’t look at her. Because he knew and he suspected she did as well, that looking at her would undo the fortress he had resurrected between them; would crack through the layers of concrete and sediment that he had painstakingly laid row by row with one blink of her beseeching brown orbs. 

“This is for players and staff only, Granger,” his tone was low, coiling through the air with the intent to strike and if the sharp inhale as he addressed her by surname meant anything it was that his bite was still effective. 

“I’m the Golden Girl, or didn’t you know,” she recovered, “I can get in and out of almost anywhere without needing the necessary clearance.” 

Slamming his fist against the metal locker before him, “And that does not give you the right to lay in wait until I was alone and ambush me. If I had wanted to hear anything else from you, from your friends, you would know.”

“No, no you don’t get to make that decision alone, this affects me just as much—” 

“Leave,” he growled, back muscles shifting as he rolled them back, straightened up, and hoped she would heed his lethal tone. Instead, the bint got closer, the heat of her hand resting centimetres from his bareback, his muscles twitching with the eagerness of feeling Hermione’s skin against him once again. 

“Draco, look at me,” she sounded softer, less confident this time and he was glad, glad that she finally sounded as broken up about this as he had been. Fuck he had missed her so bloody much his entire being was screaming at him to heed her words, turn around, grasp her close and kiss her senseless, but he would not. 

“Did you wait this long to be sure no one else was around when you left? Another chance to hide me away from the public, away from your friends, your parents,” he spat the last part, disgusted that her closeness had injected bitterness into his tone when he was attempting to sound unaffected. 

He didn’t expect her to follow him into the showers; she was usually so careful about her public image. Didn’t expect to hear her presence as he magicked the various showerheads; needing the heated release after a victorious game against the German National Team.

“Leave, Granger. You made your point; made it abundantly clear how little our  _ affair _ mattered in your ten-year plan. You need a less complicated man on your arm. I heard you talking to Red and Pansy.” 

“This is so like you,” she replied, voice almost as angry as he felt, “to jump to conclusions and run. Pansy had warned me that when the going got tough, you bolted, and I, the love-sick fool, had thought, perhaps, perhaps he had aged past this. You Draco Malfoy—”

“No —” he had his hands fisted at his sides, chest heaving with the effort not to face her, water rushing down his shoulders urging him to relax but he wouldn’t. The towel, now soaked and heavy around his waist, seemingly held in place with magic alone, served to keep him grounded. “You do not get to come in here and tell me how I am or who I am.”

“Please just look at me!” she screamed her magic sizzling into the tiles all around them. “Draco, you have to listen to me!”

“I don’t have to do anything! Go before I call security.” And it happened so suddenly; all it took was her hand on his forearm for him to give in and turn. When their eyes met, seeing red-rimmed brown, face pale with frustrating sadness, he knew this had been such a stupid reason to stay away, not to hear her out. 

“Please,” she whispered, brows furrowed as her hand slowly trailed up his arm, “you didn’t hear everything. I had emphasised what you heard would have been easy, but would never have been enough for me.”

Draco dragged Hermione under the water with him, uncaring that she was fully dressed as he crashed his mouth into hers. She gasped, hands coming up to his neck, nails digging into his skin, bringing him impossibly closer and he wrapped his arms around her torso, feeling her sharp inhales of relief. He luxuriated as each swipe of his tongue and nip of his lips she relaxed, melting back into him, her anger, his anger, her pleas and unspoken mutual apologies rushing down the drain with the heated water peppering them. 

He kissed away the shattered look she couldn’t hide from him, the sadness her shoulders carried as she urged him, possibly for the last time, to look at her. His lips brushed from her lips, hands releasing her to quickly shift her shirt out of her skirt and tug it off. He brought his mouth back to her neck, kissing away the vulnerability he had brought out in her and replacing it slowly with the same wall he had put around himself, bringing her in with each suck, each kiss, each open-mouthed assault along her skin. 

Without giving it a second thought, Draco moved them out of the streaming water and back into the locker room. 

Closing the door to the showers behind him, she moved back, and the room around them narrowed to only her, her hardened nipples, covered only by a soaked cotton bra, her jean skirt darker than her lust-filled eyes as her hair dripped around her. Shaking the water from his hair, he murmured, “Fuck, I’ve been so stupid.”

Hermione was on him the moment he broke the silence. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered against his ear before his hands were no longer full of her soft skin, his mouth empty of her taste and the room echoed with the smacking of his wet towel hitting the floor around them.

His head fell back against the metal locker, a low groan passing through his clenched teeth as she sucked the very essence of him into her mouth. “Hermione,” he groaned, “Hermione, anyone can walk in,” as her hot tongue traced up the thick vein of his cock, a hand on his sac the other along the base of his shaft. 

With a loud pop, she forced his half-lidded eyes back down to her, “I thought you said we were alone?” 

“Fuck, I think we are.” Her hand twisted hard around his tip, tongue licking up and down his small slit as Draco leaked his pleasure for her even as Hermione’s eyes widened in alarm. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this anyway. We need to talk!” Draco whined low in his gut as she let go of him and stood up. 

“Well, then we’ll stop.”

“No,” he grunted. With two long strides, he had Hermione’s legs around his waist, pinned to the metal locker. They both huffed out a breath as her covered cunt finally met his sex. “Please,” Hermione panted as she pulled her jean skirt to lay along her waist, and sliced through her plain knickers with a muted spell. 

Latching onto her jugular, sliding his cock through her drenched folds, he teased for only a moment before he slammed into her with a loud, wet smack. Her hands gripped into his shoulder muscles as she screamed, the sound echoing off the empty room as he fucked the last remnants of his anger out. “You’re mine, then?” Draco moaned, as her walls clamped tight around him. 

“Yes. You’re mine, I’m yours,” Hermione panted, head thumping against the locker and he held her tighter to him. He attempted to slow his thrusts at her proclamation, the anger shifting into something sweeter, but her nails cut into his shoulders, “No, harder Draco.” 

Her heavy groans layered over his silent grunts until her tone shifted and his hips stuttered, slowing down. “Draco,” she whispered, head still tilted up, and he traced his way up to her jaw until she repeated his name almost as insistently as earlier. 

“I’m here,” he responded immediately, wanting to wipe away his actions, his earlier anger that remained littered over her psyche. “Look at me,” she begged, and this time he did, without hesitation. Tears filled her eyes, but she urged him not to stop his stilted movements. 

“Do you,” she swallowed, a shaky hand running up into his watery strands, her nails running along his scalp, a welcomed shiver skittering to the depths of his cock. “Are we okay then?” 

“Hermione. Shit, I never wanted to make you cry. Nothing to forgive, my love.”

She tugged his lips to hers, stopping just short of kissing him, fucking herself on his cock before nodding once, “I know, now make me come so hard my wards fail, Draco Malfoy.”

With a grunt, he shifted her in his arms and laid her over the bench that had separated them not ten minutes earlier. 

Draco gritted his teeth as Hermione’s cunt swallowed him whole once more. Her back arched, limp, wet hair sticking to the wooden bench below her as he adjusted a leg over his elbow, too short to get it over his shoulder. She shuddered under him, the impact of each thrust cascaded through the room and mingled with their deep breaths and her rising groans. 

She was whimpering as he gripped her hip harder, fucked her faster, and Draco swore in French as her free hand drifted down to tweak her nipples, eliciting a high keen from her swollen lips. “Hands above your head,” he commanded, and her eyes snapped up to his, breath hitching and his cock stuttered as her pussy clenched harder around him at the singular command. 

Her chest lifted, back arched as she followed his order and his thumb found her clit in silent praise. “Oh,” she keened as he drew leisurely circles around her swollen nub, his other arm shifting down her thigh to trace sure fingers over her nipple. Hermione loved hard thrusts and tender touches; the dichotomy carrying her higher. 

Brows furrowed, he breathed desperately through his nose. She was so close, her walls fluttering around his cock, her right leg twitching wildly against him. Open-mouthed over her, Hermione fisted her hands into her curls as she crested, screaming his name. Pride swelled through him at this prim and proper attorney throwing decorum out the window to expel her release so loudly. The vice around his cock tightened further, and he couldn’t control his release any further. With three final thrusts and a shaky abdomen, he came deep inside her. 

“I missed you,” he confessed, pulling up just enough to look at her half-lidded whiskey-coloured eyes. “I have only thought of you. Fuck, I know that’s bloody awful to admit since this distance, this silence was, in essence, my fault, but Hermione, you were missed. All of you.” He punctuated his much too emotional confession with a light thrust of his hips into hers, his spent cock protesting the movement. 

“Draco, same. Come to dinner with me? Let’s go public.” Hermione mumbled against his lips as he kissed her — this time, like a man humbled by her forgiveness and enthusiastic about their future. 

  
  



End file.
